SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways, Beside the springs of Dove, A maid of whom there were none to praise, And very few to love: A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden by the eye! --Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me By: William Wordsworth how often do you pass by the "untrodden ways"? Back in college, my professor in literature gave us an assignment to choose a poem from the English Literature collection. She said to relate the poem to an important person in our lives. We need to read the poem in our class but before reading, we need to inform the class to whom the poem is for or we are relating to. I read the above poem and I am referring to my mother who died when I was fourteen. When I’m done reading I found that most of my classmates were in tears including my professor. I did not realize that I read
Wanderings, Adventure, Road Trips, Travel and Stolen Moments